Volatile Obsessions by Dee Garcia (41)

“What. The. Fuck. Did you just say?” Rome gritted out, his eyes darkening in that demonic way that could clear out a room.

“He violated me,” my voice cracked, tears welling unbidden in my eyes as the nauseating memory rushed me. “He fucking violated me right here.” I motioned to my desk.

“When did this happen?” he pressed sharply.

“Months ago, when you and I first met.”

“What happened exactly? Tell me everything so I know how to gauge where he sits on the scale.”

I wiped the wetness clinging to my cheeks. “What scale?”

“The scale of death, ‘cause I’m going to fucking rip him apart,” he growled vehemently.

“Rome, please, just—”

“Just tell me what happened, Lux!” The boom of his voice bounced off the walls, shooting my shoulders up to my ears.

Thank God I’d sent Ellie home early.

“I was here late one night. Got wrapped up in a phone call with Isabella, my now head of marketing, and when we hung up, Vic was standing at the doorway. Said he’d forgotten his charger,” I explained hastily, hoping that if I started talking, he’d calm down a bit.

An abrupt flash of skepticism rained over his enraged features. “His charger?”

I nodded, wringing my hands together.

“And you believed that?” he spat.

“He’d never given me a reason not to believe him, so yes, I did. We had a quick chat, I dismissed him under the notion I’d be leaving soon, and before I knew it, he was on me.”

Rome inhaled a deep breath, shutting his eyes and all, gathering himself. “Did he actually…”

“Yes,” I admitted, “held me down through the entire thing. He even covered my mouth at one point to shield my cries.” More tears broke free, leaking down my face in white-hot trails of despair.

And Rome’s silence only made them worse, bursting the dam of hell wide open.

“Shhh, just relax,” he tried cajoling me, holding me steady with a firm arm around my waist as his hand effortlessly yanked up my fitted pencil skirt. “You know you miss me. I’m sure your cunt misses me, too.”

“I said no, Vic. Stop.”

The more I resisted, the more he held me down.

The more a smile tore across his face.

I could barely look at him, barely recognized him. The fire in his green eyes was truly alarming. I couldn’t believe the direction this was going in, especially when he knew everything about me.

Why was he doing this?

Full-blown panic seized me. My pulse was sky high as every hair on my body stood at attention. “Don’t do this, please,” I begged him shamelessly, which only seemed to please him more.

He smiled brighter, clamping a hand down on my mouth while the other slipped beneath my panty line and found my sex. I mewled when his middle finger slid between my lips, but it was far from pleasured.

“Goddamn, look how wet you are,” he growled, working his finger inside me. “You did miss me.”

I shook my head and tried feebly to shove him off, but once again, I was no match for his muscle or his dexterity. In seconds, he had my arms behind my back, my weight keeping them secured beneath me, before he was pinning me down with that palm on my mouth again. I was completely immobilized and at his mercy, laid out on my desk for him to do as he pleased.

And that included ripping my knickers off my body.

“I’m going to fucking kill him!” Rome roared savagely, recapturing me back into the present with a jolt.

It was only then I realized I’d been sobbing, trembling, and judging by the way Rome shook too, I knew I’d probably mumbled some of it aloud along the way.

He’d relived that with me, and now, it was likely Vic was about to find himself six feet under.

Reigning myself in, I wiped the tears off my face and slipped off my desk. “Listen to me—he’s not worth it.”

“How can you say that?” Offense shined through his demeanor. “He abused you, Lux! Took advantage of you when he knew all about you! Ripping him apart is damn well worth whatever karma throws at me!”

No, it’s not.

Call me selfish, but I wasn’t willing to risk him. His life was more important to me than ridding this world of Vic Kane.

“It’s okay—I’m okay!” I tried again.

“It’s not okay, no, you’re obviously not okay either! You just pushed me away because of it!”

“I didn’t mean to! The memory flooded me out of no where and I freaked.”

“Do they happen often?” he questioned testily.

I shook my head. “No. After it happened, I spiraled for a short period. Started having day terrors again, night terrors too. But they stopped suddenly…”

“What made them stop?”

The silver-lining.

I’d never been more thankful for our obsession with one another until that very moment.

“You,” I admitted, closing the distance between us, my arms coming around his middle.

Rome’s head nearly snapped off his neck. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Dealing with you, with my confusing, underlying feelings for you, literally kept it all at bay. I guess that’s why I spazzed just now. Being here, on the desk, even in a completely different situation, sprung it to the surface with a vengeance.”

“Is this why you two weren’t on speaking terms?” he pressed on, sliding his hands to the back of my neck.

I nodded.

“So why not just fire him then?”

“I didn’t know how. I was afraid he’d snap, run to the cops.”

“I get that,” Rome sympathized, “but you need to fire him, baby. I don’t want him within a foot of you.”

Neither did I, but again, it went back to the fact that Vic would flip his shit, whether or not he’d been around much lately. The man was a vengeful bloke, and knowing our history—a history I was not about to share with Rome right now—he’d try to destroy me in every way he could.

Imagining the havoc he could wreak in mere hours was truly frightening.

I could lose everything I’d worked so hard for.

End up in prison…

“Rome, I can’t. He’ll ruin everything, I know he will.”

“Make Roscoe do it. He’s technically your right hand man now, correct?”

Another nod.

“Then tell him to get it done, stat,” he deadpanned.

It wasn’t up for discussion.

“I’ll text him tonight, okay?” I promised. “Now, let’s get out of here. How about we go have a few drinks at Blackbird first, then go home?”

Rome tipped his head and pulled me closer, brushing our lips together. “I could fucking use one.”

Blackbird wasn’t overly packed by the time we arrived—thank god. I suspected it was likely due to the fact we were in the middle of the workweek, but in any case, I was grateful for the chill vibe.

Chill is exactly what Rome and I needed right now.

The hostess greeted us and sat us over at the bar where we were tended to right away, our drinks ordered and served within minutes.

It was great, and while we didn’t talk much, I was glad we’d stopped in before going home.

I wasn’t really in the mood to chat anyway, and I knew for sure Rome wasn’t either. What transpired earlier was enough to exhaust us both—mentally, physically. I didn’t need forced conversation just for the sake of it, for the sake of pretending everything was alright.

Yes, we as couple were fine, but I knew Rome was raging inside; processing, analyzing, debating whether or not he should react on my behalf.

Keeping him calm was all I cared about—so if that meant just being there with him, hanging on his arm, and relishing his company as soft jazz played in the background, then so be it.

I’d do it a thousand times over if I had to.

It’s not like it was difficult or awkward. It never was. Our ability to be comfortably silent with one another was actually one of the things I loved most about our relationship.

We could sit in silence for hours and it was nothing but serene.

Like now—possessive hand on my thigh, his thumb rubbed back and forth tenderly over my pencil skirt as he stared into the amber liquid within his glass. Every so often, he’d peek over at me and offer a lopsided smirk, leaning in for a chaste kiss that left me humming in bliss.

This right here was all I needed.

And the bathroom, too—two drinks in and I was about to piss myself.

“I’m gonna run to the ladies room really quick. I’ll be right back,” I said to him, leaning over to peck his cheek.

But he turned his face in entirety, catching my lips with his own instead. A smirked twitched somewhere between us as his hand threaded into my hair, cupping my head. “Hurry—I’m about done here.”

“Already?” I grinned, prompting him to nod as he sucked on my bottom lip.

“I need you.”

“On the desk again?” I quipped, because although I’d freaked on my work desk, I wouldn’t mind him fulfilling that damned fantasy on my home desk.

“The desk, the couch, in the kitchen, on the bathroom floor. Wherever you want, however you want. I just need you before I lose my shit,” he gritted out, flooding me on the spot.

Pussy clenching as those images unfolded in my mind, I hummed lasciviously and pecked his lips one last time. “Three minutes, baby. Get the bill settled.”

A tip of his head.

An encouraging swat to my ass.

I squeaked and snatched my purse off the bar top, literally scampering down the dim corridor on the balls of my pumps, both from my bladder on the verge of an explosion and my libido racing into overdrive.

I couldn’t get into the stall fast enough.

Couldn’t piss fast enough.

Wash my hands fast enough.

All I could think about was the tsunami that was about the go down the second we stormed through the doors of my flat. I whimpered a little as I pulled a paper towel from the dispenser on the wall.

The drive home was going to fucking kill me.

A quick scan over my reflection and I was off, squeezing the shit out of my clutch in anticipation.

But as I emerged from the hallway into the main room, I tripped over my feet and stopped short at what I walked in on.

Lilac—one of Rome’s hurricane sluts.

She was all over him, standing between his legs, her arms around his neck. I couldn’t see his face, but I could see hers, and I recognized the fire in her eyes.

It’s the same fire that had burned within my own just seconds prior.

I watched fiercely for several moments, my blood boiling, but when he made no move to fend her off, I’d had enough. I couldn’t watch anymore.

I wasn’t even going to bother confronting them.

Didn’t have the energy for that.

Not to mention, I’d likely beat her to a pulp, and I wasn’t looking to walk out of here in cuffs.

So, I retreated slowly instead. Walked right out the front doors without a glance back to my G-Class.

Once I was behind the wheel, I pulled out my phone and sent Rome a quick text.

The last text I’d be sending him for the night, too, and possibly tomorrow as well, depending on how I felt after a night’s rest.

This was Lux Mercier in all her petty glory, people.